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"I…"
She spears me with a stern look. "I know you, Laura. You have stars in your eyes."
My cheeks heat, and I shift my gaze away from hers, glancing at the awards hanging behind her desk. Hollywood loves giving out awards. We have them for everything. She's won a lot of them over the years. She's good at her job. Too good, maybe. I can't get anything past her.
"Who is he?"
"No comment."
"I see." She sighs heavily. "So you'd rather let them run with this story than give up his identity."
"I…" My stomach churns uneasily. I expel a slow, heavy breath. "The last thing I want is the whole world talking aboutmy weight again. I'm sick and tired of my body being a subject of discussion. But things are…complicated."
"Uncomplicate them." She stands from her desk and crosses to me, her heels clicking on the floor. She slips her hands into mine, concern stamped across her lined face. "I'm asking as your friend, not your publicist."
"I'm seeing Kaiden Huxley." I don't have to say anything further. Roni knows everyone in this town, and she's diabolically smart. She's one of the first people I talked to when I wanted information about him.
"Oh." Her hazel eyes widen. "Oh."
"I'm so damn in love with him." I laugh softly, tears in my eyes.
"What do you want to do, honey?" she asks, leaving the ball in my court. This is why I love Roni. She may be diabolical, but she's always on my side. She believes in people and never feeds her clients to the wolves. She wouldn't feed Kaiden to the wolves either. When we talked a few weeks ago, she had nothing but good things to say about him.
"What can I do?" I ask helplessly. I've advocated for body positivity and loving yourself since I came to Hollywood. If they're claiming I'm in hiding because I had weight-loss surgery, people will rip me to shreds no matter what I do. Even if I show up with the same body I've always had, the paparazzi will edit the photos to make me look thinner, claim I'm wearing a fat suit, or make any other number of outlandish claims to support their false narrative to keep the story going. Gossip is a vicious cycle that feeds itself. And the only losers are the ones caught in the eye of the storm.
If I tell the truth and admit that I've been MIA because I've been spending time with the love of my life, maybe I sway hearts and minds. But I do it at the expense of Kaiden's privacy. I force him into a position he didn't ask to be in. The gossip becomesabout him. Maybe they're kinder to him this time, or perhaps they say the same cruel, heartless things they did last time, as if he's fair game because he chose to go into a career in stunt work knowing the risks.
I can't let that happen. Iwon'tlet that happen. If they want to spread lies about me, then fine. They can say what they want. But I won't let them talk badly about the man I love.
"Let them run with it," I say, my decision made. "I'll post a few pictures on my social media to mitigate the damage but leave Kaiden out of it."
Roni wraps me up in a warm hug, squeezing me tight. "We'll figure out a way to fix this, honey. Just leave it up to your agent and me."
"Okay," I mumble, unsure how they plan to do that. It's almost Christmas. There's not a lot going on in Hollywood right now aside from parties. And God only knows how reporters will spin it if I dive back into the fray and attend any of those. They'll claim I went straight from surgery to the party circuit…and that's the last thing I need right now.
Five
KAIDEN
"Hey," Laura says, shutting the lid of her laptop and lifting her gaze to mine when I walk through the kitchen door. A tired smile tips the corners of her lips up, but it doesn't reflect in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" I growl, instantly on alert.
"Nothing."
I drop my keys on the counter and pace toward her, not buying that response for a second. She may be an actress, but she's a shit liar. I've learned how to read my little shining star. I know when she's happy and when she's sad. I know when she's telling the truth and when she's editing her responses to make them more palatable. And I know when something is weighing heavily on her.
It is right now. It has been for several days now. She's been quiet and withdrawn. The furrow between her brow grows deeper every day. This morning, she was throwing up. She's anxious as hell about something, and it's eating at her.
The last few weeks between us have been the best of my life. I plummeted into love with her, sinking like a fucking stone. She's perfection from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Whenshe touches me, my entire world lights up. When she laughs, the goddamn angels sing. I've never been the kind of man who believes in love at first sight or soulmates and any of that flowery shit…but meeting Laura proved me wrong.
I don't merely love her. I breathe for her. There is nothing I wouldn't do to make this woman happy if she asked it of me. But she rarely asks for anything. She's content just being with me. The fact that she isn't talking about whatever is bothering her is worrying the fuck out of me.
Every spare moment we have, we spend together. We mostly live together. After that first weekend together, I just never went back home. We never discussed it. We didn't need to discuss it. By the time I got off on Monday, we were both fucking dying to see each other again. I raced back here, breaking every fucking speed limit on the way. By the time I made it to the front door, she had it open and was leaping into my arms.
We fucked in the foyer, her chest pressed against the wall.
All of my shit has slowly found its way to her place in the weeks since. Whenever I bring more, she lights up like I just bought her a diamond tiara. My clothes hang beside hers in the closet. My shit mingles with hers on the bathroom counter.
